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Poetry by Evan Byington

Poem

. Blood drips aimlessly from the gash in my skull.
. Seeping slowly, in a sluggish attempt to meet the tufts of polypropylene.
. Moments ago fighting, racing through my venae cavae
. In an ever present demand to be reoxygenated, to repeat the constant cycle.
. Sadly, the cycle interrupted with the crashing force of gravity.

. The corner of the table sits still, crimson droplets splatter its surface.
. It drips slowly into the carpet.
. [God, that is going to cost a fortune to remove.]
. Another liquid melds with the coarse fibers,
. My mouth is agape and drool leaks from the corner.
. A blackness settles slowly into the edges of my vision.
. Steadily pulsing, closing inwards.
. In the distance a faint voice calls out, or was it a scream?
. I’m past the point of caring.

. A shadow looms over, too late, the muscles have grown rigid.
.She yells something at my face, and I’m oblivious to what she is trying to tell me.
. […I think a steam cleaner is about forty dollars for a day…]
. “What going on? What have you done? Oh my god, he’s gone?”
. Something like that, I can’t be sure. The sound, muffled and distant.
.They come in, two men clad in white, and jam their cold hands beneath me.
.They raise me onto a board and place a white cloth over me.
.Before the white becomes all encompassing, my head falls to the side.
. I see the carmine Pollock I left in the carpet in its entirety for the first time.
. Fuck, that is never coming out.

. I feel it in my bones
. she said, trembling violently under the crisp night air.
. Her heart beat [q u i c k ening] against my chest
. Slowing slowly, more ragged.
. She nuzzles closer, desperate for the two things I am unable to provide;
. Warmth and love.
.
. She attempts to blink back tears knowing they will freeze in mere moments
. obscuring what little there is left to see in our immediate vicinity.
.
. With her body slumped against me
. It feels like I am trapped in a grocery store freezer
. And we are two packages of meat waiting to expire.
.
. I try to comfort her, but, to be honest, prospects are looking bleak.
. I give her a quick squeeze and sigh, exhaling a swath of frosted regret.

. The subzero temperatures stab viciously as I wriggle my toes to stave off frostbite.
. The movement challenged by the ice-induced rigor.
. She looks up at me and tells me that she loves me.
. I mumble a response, vague, yet comforting and pray she believes it.
. After all, if I can’t give her hope in our last moments
. then I guess I’ve completely failed her.
.
. Her small frame stopped moving,
. the gentle heaving of the ocean turned to a placid lake.
.
. A small tear forms in the corner of my eye,
. not from the pain of loss,
. but the guilt from my lack of pain.
.
.
. Breaths get shallower, the corners of my vision fade.
. I succumb to the elements.

. The gentle mystique of her presence
. cascading down the strands of her hair, flowing along her supple frame.
. I dream and dream again.
.
. She is always there – in the corner of my eye.
. My subconscious has started to blend into reality,
. for I see her in my waking hours, now.
. …Always…
. in the corner of my eye.
.
. I can’t believe she is just a figment of my imagination.
. (My mind may not be as …whole… as it once was, but that’s not a possibility)
. I long for her to close the gap, to be tangible, and within my grasp.
. But still she ever shies away.
.
.
. My eyes flutter shut,
. she beckons me.
. I heed her somber call,
. an insidious whisper oddly silent.
. As I draw near she pulls away,
. ever farther, crushing my lungs with abysmal despair.
.
.
.
.
. After years of vacant torture her haunting geist fades.
.
.
.
.
. Emptiness…
.
.
. …Yearning…
.
.
. ….Longing.

. The hours etch by
. a wholesome loneliness
. the peace eternal.
. A majesty stifled metropolis
. left bitter in the blank sky. i l
. The moon’s reflected light w r i
. – too dim to strike the dust s n across blackened dirt-
. g
. leaves me reminiscing.
. Is this all that there is left in life?
. To carry on a seemingly meaningless task
. With no one even acknowledging your existence?
.
.
. I am one with the wind.
. Surrounded by serene beauty, but invisible to the world.
.
.
.
.
. One day the calm will come and I will cease to exist.

. Sulking through the shambles of my life
. Stumb
. ling along the dirt-packed path.
.
. Intoxication a temporary bliss, ever [f a d i n g]
.
.
. A concentration of darkness pools and coalesces up ahead.
. This poison addles my mind. A slow rot.
. The darkness slowly melts into a dingy smoke.
. My bed beckons me, I’m spiralling.
. A vague shape of a man forms and its vaporous head turns to face me.
. A palpable aura of despair emanates from its being.
.
. It extends the vague formation of a “hand” and it solidifies into a wispy black body.
. I am too far gone for this – yet I grasp its claw.
.
.
. VISIONS BLAZE INSIDE MY MIND, SYNAPSES FIRING.
. I see her lithe form, calling to me.
. She is not as she once was, a mere spectre, lost.
. My thoughts race as she reaches out to me.
.
.
. A promise from this dark mass.
. My opportunity at love and happiness…
.
.
. I’d accept no matter the cost.